Davian.
I stood frozen at the foot of the bed, my hands clasped so tightly over my face that my knuckles were stark white.
My heart felt like a piece of hollow glass, cracked down the middle and ready to shatter at the slightest touch. I looked at Maria—at her pale, feverish face, at her weak, shallow breathing—and then down at Adrein, who was still slumped on the floor in the corner, clutching his chest where his bond thread hung frayed and bleeding.
A sickening, suffocating knot tightened in my gut.
Adrein was right. Goddess help me, he was right. We were smothering her. Our possessiveness, our lies, our refusal to let her breathe—it was dragging her soul straight into the ground.
But how the hell was I supposed to just let her go?
How was I supposed to stand by and watch our mate walk away with another man?
The mere thought of severing our bond made my wolf roar in pure, unadulterated agony. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.
